The bright golden sun sinks to a thin crescent against salmon pink and purple skies, heralding the coming of night with stars twinkling against fading light.

She walks alone, wrapped in the moons milky glow. Silken dress of silver and blue apon the grass doth flow.

The White Queen wanders through the forest forlorn and melancholy, pining for her King... My Lord where are thee?

No answer does she hear, save the hoot of owl and the howl of wolf. Tears of sadness fall silent against golden locks.

Darkness envelopes all silence greets her imploring call. The White Queen alone with stars above weeps for the fallen King and sunlit days of love.